


love, the universe, and other unknown variables

by venusintwelfth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Overthinks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Editor!Akaashi, M/M, Slow Burn, akaashi just wants to help, but more like a nice campfire toast, i'm a stem student i'm allowed to judge, less roasting rotisserie, osamu is a bit clueless, professor!osamu, stem students cannot write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusintwelfth/pseuds/venusintwelfth
Summary: (Osamu should know by now that there's no use trying to embrace the infinite. And yet here he is, arm stretched, reaching.)In which Osamu is an astrophysics professor, Akaashi is an academic journal editor, and some things get lost in translation.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Miya Osamu, Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 34
Kudos: 139





	love, the universe, and other unknown variables

Miya Osamu wonders how long it would take him to calculate the probability of a meteor crashing through his office at this exact moment.

He stares at the email in front of him while searching for the stress ball Suna had got him as a joke gift. It's colored blue like the planet Uranus ("Get it?" Suna had smirked) and Osamu has reached for it far more than he'd care to admit in the past few weeks. 

The email starts as it always does, thanking him for his new submission. He's been trying to publish his research from the past year or so and was pretty proud of the paper he came up with. The first time it was sent back his stomach dropped as he worried that he'd made a mistake in theory or calculations. 

Being one of the newest additions to the university's astrophysics department, it would've hurt him should he have to come back with flawed results. However, to his surprise, it wasn't the theory that stopped the paper from going through - it was his grammar.

The first email he was sent admittedly made him laugh, his brother and friends had a fun time with that one - Osamu, PhD, astrophysics professor, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence. This email, though, was the fifth one with the same critique and at this point Osamu was ready to walk down to Fukurodani Publishing himself and ask what was going on.

Osamu freezes a bit a the thought, before opening a new tab and searching the address of the journal's headquarters. Directions told him it was about a fifteen minute train ride from his university - perks of being just outside the city - and his lunch break is in about twenty minutes. Maybe later he'll blame the lack of coffee, or the stress, but in the moment he writes the train line on a sticky note and starts to collect his things before he can convince himself otherwise. 

* * *

In hindsight, it probably wasn't best to show up to the office of a coveted academic journal publisher uninvited, but Osamu was determined (stubborn, his friends would call it) and so about forty five minutes later he stands in front of a glass door, looking up at the several stories above him. 

"No going back now," Osamu mutters, before pushing his way into the lobby. A bored receptionist is sitting there, eyes lazily looking up. They have brown hair, split down the middle, and they raise an expectant eyebrow at Osamu's pause. 

"Oh, I'm looking for an Akaashi Keiji?" Osamu manages to get out, praising himself for remembering the name of the editor from the email signature. 

The receptionist glances down at the bag in his hand, holding what remains of Osamu's lunch from earlier. "Akaashi doesn't normally order out," he accuses, glancing back at Osamu's face looking unimpressed. 

"What? Oh no, I-" Osamu begins to explain, mentally noting to take a look at his wardrobe to see how he managed to be confused with a delivery person within seconds. But the receptionist holds their hand up before the inevitable rambling.

"I'll buzz you in," he sighs, "Akaashi is on the third floor, second door to the left. Tell him Kunimi said next time he orders lunch to let me know so I can get something."

"I'm not-" Osamu tries again, until suddenly previously bored eyes narrow and then he nods and makes his way to the elevator. 

The receptionist, Kunimi he now knows, is thankfully better at giving directions than he is at screening outsiders, and Osamu soon finds himself at a door with "Akaashi Keiji" engraved on the plaque just on the side of the frame. The door is propped open, and Osamu can see someone sitting facing a screen, almost reminiscent of how he looked earlier that morning. The person at the desk currently has one hand running through dark hair, green eyes blankly staring at what looks like a long article if the reflection in his glasses is anything to go by. 

When it becomes clear that the editor is not going to notice the looming presence at their door, Osamu knocks lightly on the doorframe two times. The person startles before sitting up straight and studying Osamu, noticing the bag in his hands.

"I didn't order anything," he begins, face scrunching in confusion. "Are you in the wrong office?"

"Oh my god," Osamu groans, rubbing a hand across his face, and this seems to confuse the editor further because now he's looking directly at Osamu again and it finally registers that maybe email correspondence should require a photo attachment of the sender's face because he's not quite prepared for the way the gaze seems to root him to the spot.

He stares for too long, because then the editor is giving an obvious clear of the throat.

"I'm not here to deliver food," Osamu finally explains, "I'm Miya Osamu, astrophysics professor."

The name seems to incite a physical reaction from the editor, who puts his head in his hands and takes a quick breath before tilting up with a clearly plastered smile. "Of course! Have a seat, please."

Osamu blinks slowly before stepping into the cramped office and sitting in the one other chair there. He looks around to see several stacks of paper scattered throughout, with no obvious organization system. There's a trash can in the corner with about three coffee cups from what Osamu can see, which confuses him because there is definitely a mug sitting on the editor's left. Behind them is a window with a lovely view of a grey building that is a cookie cutter version of the one he just entered. He looks back to the editor, who seems to be clicking through his computer before finding what he's looking for. 

"Yeah, Miya Osamu, writing on some theory regarding the atmosphere on Jupiter?" the editor asks, turning to face him again and the gaze is worse up close. From here Osamu can register that the editor looks about the same age as him, not the aging older man Osamu had pictured in his head at all. 

"That's me," Osamu nods, "I just wanted to get some more feedback since I know it's been sent back a couple times. I think it's really great research and-"

"I'm sure it is," the editor cuts off, looking back at his screen, "The thing is, I would never guess from the way you wrote it."

Osamu gapes at the man in front of him for a beat and the silence appears to give the editor time to register what he said because he flushes before continuing. 

"What I mean is," he amends, "I'm sure you're a very smart man, Miya. However it's difficult to decipher when reading your work. I apologize if I came across as harsh." The plastered smile makes a return and Osamu drops his head before glancing up at the editor again. 

"It's that bad?" he asks.

"Honestly?" the editor responds after a brief hesitation, and when Osamu just nods, he flicks his gaze over and adds "It's probably one of the worst written papers I've seen submitted." 

Osamu groans at that, head spinning as he thinks of how many drafts he's going to need to go through at this rate before another idea floats through his mind. 

"What if you came to one of my lectures?" he asks, head flying back up, knowing he must look a bit deranged by the way the editor sits back in his seat a bit. 

"Excuse me?"

"Just," Osamu breathes, "I think if you heard me talk about it you might see where I'm coming from a bit better."

The editor stares at him for a beat, eyes calculating, before asking "What days do you teach?" 

Osamu sighs in relief, thanks whatever or whoever out there that has decided to give him a little break. He gives the editor a breakdown of his schedule and one of the lectures next week happens to match up with their lunch break. Osamu hands over a business card and writes down the number of his lecture room before he realizes the time. 

"I should probably get going soon," Osamu says, and the editor nods as he stands. 

"I'll see you next week then. And Miya-san?"

"Yeah?" Osamu turns by the door, looking to where the editor is leaning forward on the desk now. 

"I go by Akaashi," the editor says, Osamu's stomach twists, suddenly embarrassed by the fact that he never gave the editor time to introduce himself. 

"Right," Osamu breathes, and then he turns and walks straight to the elevator. 

It's not until he's halfway back to his office that it hits him that the accusatory look the receptionist gives him on the way out is probably due to the bag still clutched in his left hand. 

* * *

If anyone asked, Osamu would generally say he's humble. He's never been one to brag about himself, unless to spite his twin brother. However, a week later, as he prepares for lecture that day, he's not too nervous, because he knows he's good at this, at talking about things he loves. Having a twin meant waking up to competition every morning, comparing days each night. Even now, no longer in the same fields there was a sense of urgency, and Osamu knew he would have something to prove until his dying day, heard so from his brother himself. 

So here he is, youngest in his department, doing all he can to convince the editor (Akaashi, he reminds himself) that his voice is worth being heard outside these four walls. Osamu checks again that his papers are in order, and reviews some of the slides he's set up for the day. 

His colleague, Tanaka Saeko, is watching him with a raised eyebrow as they engage in their usual pre-lecture small talk. She joined about a year before him, and never let him forget that she was the youngest before he came along. ("At least I'm still the best looking one here," she'd laughed.) Despite it, she had taken Osamu under her wing, often comparing research and offering him an invite when the rest of the faculty went out for drinks. 

"Is the dean making rounds again? How come no one told me?" she asks, looking down at the notes Osamu had laid on the desk.

"The dean isn't coming today," Osamu sighs. "It's for my paper. Fukurodani's editor is stopping by."  
Saeko immediately brightens, bobbed hair swinging as she leans forward from the desk she's chosen in the front row of the class.

"How'd you manage to make that happen?" 

Osamu winces at the question, finally looking his colleague in the eye before he admits "I may have stopped by the other week."

Saeko's eyes narrow. 

"Unannounced," Osamu adds with a sigh.

"Miya!" Saeko exclaims, eyes widening while the upward curve of her mouth betrays her amusement. 

"It was the fifth email! I was frustrated," Osamu explains, whispering loudly in case one of his students walks by. 

"You do get a bit annoying when you're stressed," Saeko concedes, "But you should've brought me with you! What if they had security? I could've been backup."

"It's a publishing firm, Saeko," Osamu deadpans. "Besides it worked out fine, he's coming to watch my lecture today."

Saeko blinks at him. 

"Which means you should go." 

"Fine! Fine. I'm leaving. Keep your mysterious editor to yourself. You know where to find me if you need anything!" Saeko says, walking towards the door. 

"The literature department?" Osamu replies, knowing that Saeko is usually considered missing until she's discovered in Miwa's office, especially during lunch hours. 

Saeko doesn't respond, just winks at Osamu over her shoulder before exiting. 

Osamu takes a deep breath before setting up his presentation for the day's lecture. After a few minutes, his first students start to file in, and the small talk carries him through to the beginning of the lecture. Right before he begins, he notices Akaashi slip in to a seat all the way in the back, acknowledging him with a nod before starting his lecture. 

Before he knows it, he's wrapping up his teaching and his students are gathering their things to leave. A few of them stick around to ask some questions about their notes, or about the upcoming assignment, but eventually move on to their next classes. Soon enough, Osamu looks up to see only Akaashi left in the room. 

He's quiet as he looks down at his notes, and Osamu feels nervous for the first time that day. This paper is important to him, yes, but also working with someone so close his age brings out his old competitive streak. Osamu wants to impress the editor, show him he’s someone worth working with. 

Akaashi makes his way up to the front of the room, sitting at the same desk Saeko had occupied earlier. He looks down at his notepad again, and Osamu tries in vain to see what's scribbled on there before the editor speaks up. 

"That was a very nice lecture, Miya. Thank you for letting me sit in," Akaashi smiles softly.

"It's no problem, thank you for stopping by," Osamu replies, and a beat of silence follows as they stare at the other. 

"Right," Akaashi clears their throat, before sitting up in his seat, cheeks flushed "Well as you probably know, Fukurodani Publishing prides itself on making more complex new theories accessible to the average person. That's where I come in. I don't know much of anything about the sciences, I specialize in writing, so before a paper can be pushed forward it has to be approved by me or one of my colleagues. I was a little wary at first, but after hearing you today, I think I have a proposition for you."

Osamu sits down in his desk chair. "A proposition?"

"Yes, I'm willing to meet on a weekly basis to go over your paper and where I think it could be stronger, since it's clear that email correspondence isn't working."

"Wait, so you'd want to meet up and help me make my paper decent?" Osamu asks, leaning back in his seat while he glances towards the door.

"That's what I'm offering, yes." Akaashi nods, looking down at his papers once more.

Pausing a bit, Osamu asks "Sorry if I'm being a bit forward, but what do you get out of this? You could just push my paper off to some other firm." 

Akaashi sighs, before saying, "Well I know you're tired of reworking your paper, and frankly I'm tired of having to send it back as well." He slides his gaze back up to Osamu. "And you're one of the youngest authors to cross our desks in a while. I'm hoping if we get your paper through, it will encourage other younger researchers to publish through Fukurodani."

Osamu thinks it over for a bit, before giving a small nod. "I think that'll work just fine."

"Perfect. Let's aim for next week. Do you want to exchange numbers?" 

"What?" Osamu blinks slowly, hands coming to rest on the desk. 

Tilting his head, Akaashi says "To plan when to meet?"

"Right of course," Osamu rushes, his cheeks flushing this time as he reaches in his pocket for his phone. 

Akaashi puts his number in, sending himself a text from Osamu's phone before getting up to gather his things. He leaves with a polite smile and "I look forward to working with you," and before Osamu knows it he's alone in the classroom. He gathers his notes in his folder and goes to put it in his bag before pausing as the recent events settle in. 

"What just happened," he whispers, before shoving everything into his bag and heading to the office. 

* * *

The rest of the week is filled with grading and lecture planning, but as the weekend comes Osamu begins to become more accustomed to the idea of working with Akaashi. He had known what Fukurodani's mission was, it was one of the reasons he was so insistent on publishing in that journal - he hoped that it would be something that his brother and friends could read once it was out. He remembered his first months of research as an undergraduate, feeling frustrated because he could never seem to grasp what the papers were trying to say. 

For an editor to take time out of their day to work with him could do wonders for his first research debut. Knowing that Akaashi, or at least Fukurodani, could also benefit made him feel better about the exchange as a whole. 

Over the weekend, the two agreed to meet at a cafe that was somewhere in the middle of their two workspaces. Akaashi claimed they had visited it often and it was relatively quiet, even during lunch hours. Thursdays turned out to be the most convenient for both of them, and so later the next week Osamu had found himself on a train heading two stops over. 

Approaching the cafe, he could see why it didn't get too busy. It seemed almost hidden from plain view, but when Osamu walks in he's greeted by smells of fresh baking. He looks around and spots Akaashi concentrating on the laptop in front of him, so he steps in line to order. 

Once he’s grabbed his coffee, he walks over to where Akaashi is seated, who finally notices him and offers a smile. Akaashi explains how he visits this place often and talks a bit about how the editing process is going to look while Osamu gets his laptop out. 

“I’ll share the document with my edits and you can ask me any questions you have,” Akaashi says, typing something into his computer and then Osamu gets notified of a new email. He clicks the attachment only to feel his face fall as he notices how much of it is highlighted in red.

Akaashi notices his face and casts a sympathetic look. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s your first paper and like I said, you’re younger than most authors we get. Let’s just take it a bit at a time, okay?”

Osamu takes a breath before nodding, taking out the lunch he'd packed before turning his screen so both he and Akaashi could see. They alternate between Osamu explaining the point he wants to get across, and Akaashi breaking down the best way to communicate it. It's very professional, and before he knows it they've gotten a decent chunk of the introduction reworded and it's time for them to head back to work. 

Thanking Akaashi, Osamu gathers his things and they agree to meet at the same time and place next week. It's strange to break out of his normal routine of eating in his office, rarely accompanied unless a colleague decided to stop by. Though the cafe is in fact spacious, even the quiet chatter is a change of pace, but Osamu decides he likes it. 

The rest of the week and the days that follow go by their normal routine, and the second meeting goes about the same as the first. Akaashi is mostly business, engaging in even less small talk than the first time in favor of discussing Osamu's work. It's rinse and repeat - Osamu takes out his lunch, Akaashi lays out the best way to approach theories, and they alternate working on the document. Their time runs out, they go their separate ways, the week flies by and he's back on the train to the cafe. 

Somewhere in the middle of their third meeting, Akaashi looks up at him from where he's reading on the screen and says "Okay, I think we're about where most other authors start off now."

Osamu pauses from eating the onigiri he had brought that day and looks at Akaashi incredulously before echoing "Start?"

"Well yes," Akaashi says sheepishly, shuffling through a jumble of papers that are in his bag, "I know it sounds bad, but I actually think we're making pretty good progress." 

"If you say so," Osamu breathes out, before giving Akaashi a curious look. "If you don't mind me asking, where do you even store your lunch between all those papers?"

Akaashi looks a bit stunned at the question before looking down at the bag beside him again. 

"I don't pack lunch,"

"What do you mean you don't pack lunch? Do you just not get hungry?" Osamu asks.

"No, I just," Akaashi looks to the side, cheeks getting pink, "I usually forget."

Osamu waits a beat, staring at the bag bursting with papers and thinking back to Akaashi's office, before saying "You act so formal, but you're kind of a mess, huh?"

For a second, there's no response, and Osamu's stomach sinks when he sees Akaashi with his elbows on the table and his face in his hands, glasses placed to the side. Three weeks in and Osamu had already settled into his usual blunt ways, with the one person who stood in the way of being a published researcher. Looking closer, however, he notices his shoulders are shaking a bit and realizes that Akaashi is laughing.

"I'm sorry," Akaashi finally breathes. "It's just- I think that's the best thing anyone's ever said to me." 

Osamu scratches the back of his head, face flushing as he makes eye contact with Akaashi, somehow worse without the glasses. He looks down at the four onigiri left in his bag and slides two over towards Akaashi, telling him to take half. Akaashi shakes his head to refuse, but Osamu pushes.

"It'll make me feel like less of a jerk," he admits.

Akaashi carefully places his glasses back on, glancing up at Osamu with a soft smile. 

"Well," he caves, "if you insist."

* * *

Something eases after that day, and Akaashi is a lot more forthcoming with Osamu. Osamu starts making double his usual lunch portion, telling Akaashi that it's no bother at all and confessing that cooking is one of his favorite hobbies. 

(He doesn't mention that it was lonely cooking for one anyways, especially when he's used to the loud noise of his brother somewhere in the living room behind him. Or a chin hooked over his shoulder as he stands by the stove. How it took him months to stop making so much that the leftovers lasted for days, and how easy it was to slip back into routine.)

Osamu learns that Akaashi is an only child, that he studied literature in college, and that he likes to knit and crochet cause it gives him something to do with his hands, since he used to be a setter in high school. He also learns that Akaashi was not lying when he said he knows very little about the sciences, which makes him very easy to impress. 

"You mean by the time you see the light of a star, it's because it already died?" Akaashi exclaims during one of their meetings. Osamu nods somberly, explaining that the star is so far away that by the time the light travels it's already too late. He doesn't include that this is a fact he's known since he was about sixteen, deciding to let Akaashi have his moment. 

In exchange, Osamu tells him about his twin brother who he played alongside until he decided to move onto other things. How he always has to be just as impressive, even now, and that's part of why he has to make sure the paper is simple enough for his idiot brother to understand. He explains how he started following recipes in graduate school when eating out started chipping away at his wallet, how he liked the way it gave him something to do with his hands, since he used to be a spiker in high school. 

They still get a decent amount of work done, Osamu is aware of the amount of effort Akaashi is investing into this paper. Over time, he finds himself just as grateful for the company as the work that's being done, though he reasons it's because it's nice to work with someone his own age for once. 

It's about the seventh week of their meetings when Osamu wakes up to a text from Akaashi asking if they can meet after work instead of during lunch, due to an important meeting that he thinks will run long. Osamu agrees easily, but it's not until the lunch hour approaches that he realizes just how out of place he feels in his own office. Even Saeko seems surprised to see him, doing a double take as she walks past his office. 

"You're not heading out today?" she asks, standing just outside the door to his office. 

"No, my meeting got pushed back so I'm just gonna take lunch here," Osamu replies, putting some assignments to the side to make room for his food. 

"You'll be okay all by yourself?" Saeko gasps, eyes widening dramatically while Osamu rolls his. 

"Yes, I'd actually prefer it," Osamu drawls, with a pointed look at Saeko that makes her laugh as she walks away. 

And while he should be used to lunch in his office, his mind wanders to think of what Akaashi might be doing in that moment. 

* * *

They agreed to meet in Osamu's office, his last colleague reminding him to lock up when he was done as they head out for the day. Osamu decides to meet Akaashi in the front entrance, since it's easy to get lost in the building, especially considering how small the astrophysics department is. 

He sees Akaashi approaching bundled up in a scarf with his hands in his pockets. They don't have their glasses on, likely to avoid fogging, and they smile as they near closer. 

"This is a really nice building," Akaashi says, "I don't think I've ever been inside." 

"Well let me give ya one of the most unimpressive tours out there," Osamu smiles, before opening the door to let them in. 

He shows Akaashi the basics on their way to his office, while Akaashi observes quietly, nodding along. When they get to Osamu's office, Akaashi pauses at the door to take everything in. It's slightly chaotic, with random telescope captures and whiteboard with half a homework problem scrawled on, but Akaashi doesn't seem to be judging him for any of it. 

Osamu asks about the meeting while Akaashi sets up his work, and Akaashi sighs before going into a rant about how some important deadline was moved up, and now his team would probably have to work extra hours to make it in time. 

"What did you tell them?" Osamu asks, turning his monitor screen so that they could both see what was on it. 

Akaashi pauses in his actions before saying, "Well I said it was fine, of course."

Osamu shakes his head with a laugh, before asking about the results section of his paper. 

They work for about an hour or so in relative silence. As Osamu goes to look for a book to confirm one of his references, he turns to see Akaashi looking out the window before saying "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Osamu says, making his way back to his desk. 

"Your university is pretty close to the city, so how do you see the stars from here? The view from your office isn't that great from what I can tell."

Osamu turns his head to glance out the window. "Yeah it's a bit harder being just outside the city, but we actually have an observatory in the building. The astro department used to be bigger, so we have about five telescopes up there? I don't go as much as I did in grad school, though."

Noticing Akaashi had grown quiet, Osamu looks back to see Akaashi staring at him, almost as if waiting for something. 

Sighing, Osamu asks, "Did you want to go see it?"

"Well, if you insist," Akaashi smiles, closing his laptop and standing up. 

* * *

Osamu checks to ensure none of his students are signed up to use the observatory that night before stepping in. It's dark there, and much smaller than most of the well-known observatories Osamu had been able to visit, but Akaashi looks around curiously for a bit before glancing back at Osamu. 

"It's not as impressive as official observatories, but I can show you what to look for," Osamu says, beckoning Akaashi forward to one of the telescopes there. He looks through himself for a good spot before stepping back to let Akaashi look, moving to the other telescope over to their right. 

Osamu usually doesn't get a chance to see what it's like for someone to look out into space for the first time. Most of his own students observe at night, when he's long left his office and gone home for the day. Watching Akaashi now, though, he wishes he could freeze the moment, just for a bit. They're holding onto the telescope with a bit of reverence, mouth slightly open in what seems like a held breath. Another beat passes before he looks over at Osamu, who jumps a bit at being caught staring. 

"I'm not sure what I expected, but-" Akaashi cuts off, looking back through the telescope and Osamu knows the feeling, the inability to capture the universe in words.

"Hold on a second," he says instead, looking through Akaashi's telescope and adjusting to a direction all too familiar. 

Moving a bit so Akaashi can see again, he watches as their eyes adjust before a small gasp escapes. 

"Is that?" he whispers

"A planet?" Osamu asks. "Yeah you can see a couple through a telescope, though they usually just look like really bright stars. That one you're looking at is Jupiter, which I only know cause I've been focusing on it for my research so much."

"I don't think I've ever noticed it before," Akaashi admits, eyes still focused forward.

"To be fair, it is a bit harder to catch out in the city. Back where I grew up, there were these nice mountains where you could see so much, clear as day. You'll have to go visit sometime." Osamu says. 

"Really?" Akaashi asks, turning suddenly and it's not until then that Osamu realizes he didn't move as far back as he originally thought, because Akaashi is close enough that their breath fans his face. Akaashi seems to notice as well, jerking back with a sharp inhale before clearing his throat and looking down. 

"Yeah," Akaashi whispers before glancing back at Osamu, "Maybe I will."

Laughing softly, Osamu moves back, before telling Akaashi "It's getting late, why don't we head back?"

* * *

Osamu insists on walking with Akaashi back to the train station, reasoning that he has to wait for his line anyways. Akaashi's face is buried in their scarf, breath forming a small cloud in front of them. He's looking up at the sky as he walks, occasionally looking ahead to see where they're going. 

"Osamu?"

"Yeah?" he responds, looking over to editor to his left. 

"Don't you ever get overwhelmed?" Akaashi asks.

"What do you mean?" Osamu responds, as they turn left on the incoming corner. 

"Well, the universe is so big, you know? There's no way to even get close to understanding all of it in one lifetime." 

"Such faith in me, Akaashi," Osamu laughs, smiling as Akaashi joins him.

"I don't doubt your abilities," Akaashi replies, "I just think it would feel hopeless. Boring, even, starting something that seems so endless."

Osamu thinks for a bit as he looks up at the sky himself. 

"I haven't gotten bored of it yet," he responds simply, looking over again to watch Akaashi consider him for a moment, nodding as the answer seems to satisfy him.

"What about you?" Osamu asks. "It seems a bit of a leap to go from literature to here."

"I honestly had no idea this was even an option," Akaashi admits, "A friend of mine worked at Fukurodani and told me about it. It wasn't what I imagined, but it felt important.”

They're walking into the station now, and Akaashi looks over to him as they wait on the platform. 

"It's nice, you know?" Akaashi says. "To realize you're more useful than you thought you were."

Osamu smiles at that, the honesty of the answer. 

"I know I'm grateful for it," he admits.

Akaashi returns his smile, "Me too."

They wait the rest of the time in comfortable silence, and Akaashi's train comes shortly after. He waves goodbye to Osamu, promising to see him next week, and walks through the sliding doors.

(People, Osamu thinks, are a far more complicated field of study than the universe. While theorizing about the origins of the world was fascinating, humans were the infinite made tangible. Evolutions visible with the naked eye, and therefore much more terrifying. As he watches the train leave the station though, Osamu believes, just for a second, that he wouldn't mind studying the many moons that make up Akaashi Keiji. To dedicate a lifetime to seeing all the places where they start, end, start again.)

* * *

Something tenses after that night, like a coil twisting over and over. Stolen glances, lingering touches, and soft smiles weave their way into their weekly meetings. As the semester creeps closer to an end, Osamu's students are more occupied with exams, giving him a bit of free time. Having worked with Akaashi this long now, he learns to anticipate the criticism and fix things ahead of time, making their meetings much more productive. 

They text between meetings sporadically, questions about which word is better to use, or to double check a number Osamu had recorded. Osamu gets the urge to ask him about other things, like any current knitting or crocheting projects they've started or whether or not he should try a new recipe. He stops himself each time, telling himself it's only a matter of time before they're done working together. 

The day comes mid-November, when Osamu walks in to the cafe to see Akaashi beaming at him. It's a rare sight, and Osamu finds himself smiling back before he can even ask what the occasion is. 

"I've been sitting on this all day, but I had to tell you in person," Akaashi starts, hands folded on the table. 

Osamu stares back at them before they continue. "So, I ran the paper by my colleagues and they think it's ready to go through." He finishes, smiling again. 

There's a silence that settles as Osamu waits for the excitement to kick, for relief to ease the tension in his shoulders. 

"Osamu?" Akaashi prods, eyes searching. 

And Osamu knows he should be ecstatic, knows he should thank Akaashi for all they've done and go their separate ways. He knows this is logically the end of where their paths cross. 

"We should celebrate," he breathes out, looking Akaashi in the eye. 

"The two of us?" Akaashi asks, hesitant as he looks down at his hands. 

"I think we deserve it," Osamu answers, smiling shyly. 

Akaashi blushes, bringing his hands closer to himself. "I thought you'd be a bit bored of me by now."

(Osamu should know by now that there's no use trying to embrace the infinite. And yet here he is, arm stretched, reaching.)

Osamu stares at the editor across from him, and softly says, "Nah, not yet."

* * *

Akaashi lets Osamu pick the restaurant, claiming that he's the more experienced of the two. They meet at the train station, and it hits Osamu that this is the first time he's seen Akaashi outside of their work clothes. They're wearing a dark green sweater, making their eyes that much deeper without their glasses. Osamu himself is wearing a navy blue button down, and he mentally notes how well their colors complement each other. 

As if thinking the same, Akaashi comments, "That color looks nice on you."

"Thank you," Osamu replies, hand reaching to the back of his neck. "I don't think I've ever seen that color on you. It looks good."

"Such a charmer," Akaashi laughs, as they head over to the restaurant. 

Osamu had chosen one of his favorite spots to eat, nice enough to feel worthy of celebration but casual enough that they wouldn't feel too pressured to act a certain way. He recommends some of his favorite dishes as Akaashi looks intently at the menu and nods along. They eventually order their main courses, with a round of drinks as they wait. 

Akaashi updates him on the frenzy his office is in, trying to meet the important deadline that had been pushed up. Osamu talks about his students, what it's like preparing for exams as well as signing up for classes next semester. He'd had a constant stream of them in and out of his office the past week, and had been nervous about whether or not he was advising them in the right direction. 

Soon enough, their food arrives, and Akaashi's eyes light up as he tried one of the dishes Osamu had recommended. Osamu mentally pats himself on the back for the praise and they laugh as he tells Akaashi the story of his brother's recent kitchen mishap. 

"Are you the go-to person to call when something goes wrong in the kitchen?" Akaashi asks with wide eyes, reaching for his second glass of the night. 

"Unfortunately," Osamu sighs, putting his empty glass towards the edge of the table to signal for another drink. 

"So you wouldn't judge me if I called you while my food is burning?"

Osamu laughs at the image that his mind makes up, Akaashi frantically fanning smoke away with his phone pinched between his shoulder and ear. 

"I was hoping some of my culinary skills would've rubbed off on ya by now," Osamu says, gathering together what's left on his plate to finish off. 

"Not yet," Akaashi shakes his head, "Guess I'll have to stick around you a bit longer."

Gaze snapping up, Osamu smiles. "I guess so."

* * *

After one more round of drinks and a split dessert, Osamu walks out feeling a bit warmer as they head back towards the station. As they wait again on the platform, Akaashi seems to remember something, reaching into their tote bag with excitement.

"I almost forgot," Akaashi says, cheeks flushed and giggling a bit from the alcohol. "I made you something." 

Osamu watches as he brings out two small stuffed spheres, that seem to be handmade and look vaguely familiar. 

"Are those-?" Osamu begins.

"Planets? Yes!" Akaashi exclaims, proudly pushing them forward with a smile on his face.  
Osamu holds them in his hands, one with layers of orange and cream, the other with obvious rings around it. Both have stitched smiles and small eyes, connected to each other by a string. 

"I was going to make Jupiter only, because of your paper," Akaashi rambles. "But then I thought that it needed another one, so it wouldn't get lonely." 

Osamu lets out a surprised laugh, heat flooding his face. "You thought the planets would get lonely?" 

With a shy laugh, Akaashi glances up at Osamu. "I mean, don't we all?"

* * *

A little over a week passes before the silence between them is broken. The weather has gotten a bit chillier, as some of the leaves start to change. 

(It’s nine days, about seven hours and twenty minutes. Osamu did not keep track, just as he didn’t hold the two planets for minutes on end and convince himself they resembled the two of them.) 

It’s evening when Osamu’s phone rings, surprised when Akaashi’s name flashes across the screen.

“Hello?” Osamu asks sitting up from where he was laying on the couch.

“Ok so,” Akaashi starts, “I was somewhat joking about the kitchen mayhem scene, but I think I burned this one bad.” 

Laughing, Osamu walks him through how to properly get rid of the mess, as well as a quick dinner he can make when Akaashi lists off what’s in their fridge. 

“I owe you one,” Akaashi insists once everything settles down. 

Osamu pauses for a bit before responding, “There’s this new place I’ve wanted to try for lunch. Why don’t you come with me and we can call it even.” 

On the other end, Osamu worries he hears Akaashi choke on their food. After a beat, he says “Thursday?”

“Thursday.” Osamu agrees. 

When they hang up, Osamu stares up at the ceiling before calling his brother to ask if he thinks Osamu would look good in green. 

* * *

It’s a bit too easy to fall back into regular lunch meetings with Akaashi. Though Osamu had originally only mentioned one place, he lets it slip that he actually has a list of places around the area he wants to visit, and when Akaashi’s eyes light up it seems only natural that Osamu would ask him to come along. 

(Osamu feels the strain of how much he is longing for, and some days, after he's gotten Akaashi to laugh more than once, he can convince himself that he's managed to graze his fingers on the edge of a universe.)

About a month after their last work meeting, Osamu’s paper is finally published. He emails his brother and some friends, all of who call him a nerd but he knows they’re secretly proud. By then, the students are off for break but most of his colleagues are still around the office, either to get last minute grades in or work on their own research. 

Saeko walks in towards the end of the work day on Friday with a printed copy and a smile on her face, plopping it down onto the desk while she slides into the seat across him. 

Osamu gives her a look before she can say anything, and she shoves his shoulder in response.

“You should be thrilled! This is a big deal,” Saeko insists, pointing down at the paper in front of Osamu. 

He keeps the act up for a bit longer before finally beaming. “Isn’t it?” 

Saeko claps in excitement, and then hits Osamu with all the questions she had about his research. Osamu isn’t overwhelmed, on the contrary grateful that Saeko read throughly enough to ask about it. 

After a bit of back and forth, Saeko leans forward and asks, “So how does your editor boyfriend feel about all this?” 

Osamu pauses where he’s flipping through the paper, looking up at Saeko curiously. 

“Boyfriend?”

Saeko mirrors his confused expression, before asking “The editor you’ve been having lunch with? Even though the paper got pushed for review over a month ago?” 

After a bit more silence, Saeko gestures to where the planets sit on Osamu’s desk. “The one who keeps making you these?” 

Osamu reaches over to stop her before she can touch them, causing Saeko to put her hands up in surrender. Akaashi had slowly been giving Osamu additional planets they’d made, arguing that it was logical and a fun project.

Getting defensive, Osamu responds, “You and Miwa get lunch all the time, it doesn’t mean you’re dating.” 

Saeko is silent for a bit, before doubling over in laughter. Osamu glances up at the door, hoping no one is hearing their conversation or sees how flustered he looks.

“Miya, Miwa and I have been dating for months now,” Saeko finally says after catching her breath. “In fact I was gonna knock you over the head for stealing my whole brand. First a cool, young astrophysics professor and then dating a broody, mysterious writer? Very unoriginal.” 

Realization dawns on Osamu suddenly and he breathes out, “Oh my god.”

Saeko has the decency to look sympathetic before tapping her forehead. “All that knowledge and not a drop of sense, huh?” 

Getting up suddenly, Osamu looks over at her before grabbing his coat and bag.

“I have to go,” he says, walking out the door before she can respond. 

* * *

Osamu heads to the station from muscle memory, looking back on the past few weeks. The lunch dates, Akaashi’s gifts, the comfortable space they shared. He waits for the next train, praying that Akaashi is still working, remembering all the deadlines they had coming up. 

(He thinks of the facts about the stars, about seeing the light by the time it’s already died out. Osamu hopes he’s not too late, that being blinded by what feels so obvious doesn’t mean that it’s already out of his grasp, not when he’s been reaching and reaching and-) 

Blinking up at the building before him, he pushes through the door and sees the secretary from months ago. They're staring at him, seemingly thrown by his sudden entrance. 

"Did Akaashi leave yet?" Osamu asks, moving to the elevator at the first shake of the head. 

He takes a deep breath in while he's taken up to the third floor, walking to the second door on left. He stands just outside the door, where "Akaashi Keiji" is engraved on a plate just to the left. The editor is standing at their file cabinet looking for something and doesn't seem to notice the intrusion. Osamu smiles to himself, being reminded that this is where it all began (and where it will end, and begin again.)

"Akaashi," he breathes out, when it's clear he won't notice Osamu standing there. Akaashi startles, glancing over at where they left their glasses on the desk before looking up at the door. 

"Osamu," he smiles, "Your paper went out this week didn't it? Congratulations."

Stepping into the office, Osamu walks over slowly, responding "Thanks, but that's not why I'm here."

Akaashi's eyebrows scrunch together, looking at Osamu approaching "Did something happen?"

"No," Osamu says, tone serious, "I just-". He cuts himself off as his hands raise on either side of Akaashi's face, pausing right before he makes contact. 

Hands raising up to grasp his wrists on instinct, Akaashi searches his face with widened eyes.

"Osamu?" Akaashi prods. “Your hands are cold.”

"It’s windy today.” he supplies without thought, voice barely above a whisper. “Can I try something?"

Left thumb stroking the inside of his wrist, Akaashi nods wordlessly as they take a breath, close enough that Osamu can feel it in the space between them. 

His hands come down on either side of Akaashi's face, staring for a moment more before leaning in until their lips brush. 

The first kiss with Akaashi is gentle, but it feels like a taut string finally snapping. It's careful, yet sure and Osamu feels Akaashi's grip tighten around his wrists. Kissing Akaashi feels like finding a new axis, like it's what he revolves around and soon he's deepening it. It tastes like Akaashi's coffee and whatever stardust is and like grabbing the edge of a galaxy and holding on for dear life. 

After what feels like forever, Akaashi's shoulders start shaking and Osamu realizes they're laughing and pulls back only for them to rest their head on his shoulder. 

"I thought I was going crazy," Akaashi whispers, lifting his head to look at Osamu. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" Osamu laughs, hands reaching out again to hold Akaashi's face. 

"I knew you were really grateful for my help," Akaashi explains, moving his hand to tangle their fingers together. "I thought you'd feel pressured if I said something first. After a while I thought maybe I was just reading it wrong." 

"God no," Osamu breathes out, thumb brushing Akaashi’s cheekbone. "Come over tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Akaashi echoes, eyeing the stacks of paper on his desk. 

"I'll make dinner for us," Osamu continues, "An apology for keeping you waiting so long."

Akaashi chuckles, looking back to Osamu before sighing, "Well if you insist, I guess I can make it work." 

* * *

Osamu is making breakfast by the stove when he feels a presence behind him, a chin hooking over his shoulder. 

"Good morning," he says as Akaashi runs his hand down Osamu's arm, peering over at what's in the pan. 

"Good morning," Akaashi replies. "It smells good."

Osamu hums in agreement as Akaashi steps back, opting to stand to Osamu's left instead. 

They'd been dating for several months now, often alternating sleeping over at the other's apartment. Finally looking at Akaashi, Osamu notices that he's wearing one of his old college shirts and borrowed sweats as well. 

"Jupiter's supposed to be close to Earth this weekend," they continue while covering up a yawn. "It's gonna be visible without a telescope."

"Is that so?" Osamu asks, amused, looking up from where he's stirring the vegetables. 

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi responds "I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hyogo for the weekend. I can ask to get out early on Friday since I know you don't lecture."

Moving the pan off the burner, Osamu turns to Akaashi, grabbing his wrist lightly while smiling at the way Akaashi instinctively intertwines their fingers. 

"That sounds nice," he says, "Do you want to take the train so you can read that new book you got the other day?"

"And I'm the sappy one," Akaashi mumbles, and Osamu laughs while he assembles two plates for their meal. 

(Osamu still thinks that people are a bit more complicated than the stars or the planets. To study a being and to study the universe means to commit to the endless. But he thinks, for many moments now, that he could spend several lifetimes becoming one with the moons that orbit Akaashi Keiji. That maybe he could devote himself to the way it consumes him. Perhaps not caressing the infinite, but instead falling into it, assured he’s not alone.)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://saekoshousewife.tumblr.com/) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/sapphosaeko)


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